Unexpected
by kimmiesjoy
Summary: Her hair's wet against his pillow, white turning grey beneath her head as the strands leech their damp offerings into the cotton. Her skin smells like summer rain and the heat of battle and him. Between Always and After The Storm


An amalgamation of two prompts from **castlefanficprompts** on tumblr.

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><p>It's just <em>awe<em>.

There's no other way to describe how he feels or word that fits their current situation better than that one specific one racing around his head on the worlds smallest loop-de-loop racetrack.

He watches her as she breathes deep and sighs through the lightest sleep, totally naked and sated on his sheets.

His heart's racing and she's sleeping.

He's lost for words.

They kinda fell to the bed together after that first slow round of exploration, too intense, too thoroughly decimated by their explosive collision to do anything other than collapse side by side and try to catch their breath.

He still _can't_.

Can't make his lungs cooperate, can't coerce his heart into a regular rhythm. Can't believe she came to him almost two hours ago, roaring like thunder, with four years of rubble at her feet.

Just, on every level, he can't.

His eyes burn with tears, his stomach growls, the most intimate parts of his body that entwined themselves with hers _throb_, and laughter bubbles in his chest. He's actually, possibly, been driven insane by having sex with Kate Beckett. All these years she's claimed he was the one making her crazy. She's wrong, god, she's so wrong.

He's utterly gone. Down the merry path to lala land in love with her and the taste of her kiss on his lips is still too fresh for his mind to pretend it could all be a dream. Reality is too firmly in the room with them for him to believe it anyway.

Her hair's wet against his pillow, white turning grey beneath her head as the strands leech their damp offerings into the cotton. Her skin smells like summer rain and the heat of battle and him.

Her skin smells like _him_.

His fingers stutter out at the curve of her wrist but he can't bring himself to touch her yet. Her face is angled away and there are bruises appearing frighteningly fast just below her ribs, down her arms, across her stomach.

His hands ache to soothe them, trace them, learn each edge and boundary, map their path over her body. Bring her up out of slumber with the twist of his tongue and promises that he can make it better.

They went at each other with determination not that long ago. Neither rough, but neither shying away, and now the dappled shadows of tissue damage and pain pepper her skin, Castle yearns to stretch his fingers out and stroke them. Test them. Kiss his way over her body, worship her lips and plead for all her stories.

He doesn't.

Instead he bridges that tiny gap of distance between them and lays a solid hand to her face, leaning over to kiss her mouth.

The moment his hand touches her cheek she flinches hard and throws her arms up, elbow first, smacking him in the head and across the nose, all in one flailing sleep induced moment of utter confusion.

"Whass'at?" She scrunches her eyes tight, peeks one open expecting too bright light, only to find darkness.

"Ow!" Castle drops back and covers his nose, dabbing tentatively, expecting blood. There isn't any, thank God, "Beckett?" He barks, all accusation and nothing else to say cos, what the hell? But she's already sitting up when he squints one eye open, pouting and refusing to laugh even though she looks utterly ridiculous.

She's half asleep flashing him a somewhat comforting eyeful of her very naked and very lovely boobs, covering her mouth with one hand as the other tries to tame the runaway rooster quiff that's attached itself to her head.

He sees the moment understanding dawns in the obsidian depths of her eyes, eyebrows up and shoulders shaking, "I'm so sorry," she gasps, swallowing hard, pressing both hands hard against her mouth as she quivers and he realizes then she's -

"You're laughing?" Castle throws himself upright and scoffs, needing to be face to face if she's gonna crack up over smacking him in the head. Yet the moment they're level she drops her hand to the bed and follows it down, hiding in the sheets, her body curling, hands over her face, her naked ass in the air as she laughs.

Alright, maybe he was wrong, she was right, whatever, four years of following her around has made Beckett _loopy_.

The throbbing dies down but the giggling doesn't and after a few seconds Castle's smiling, utterly lost in the sound of her happiness.

"I'm ... Sorry," she gets out between giggles, "Castle, sorry I forgot where I was."

She laughs again, deeper this time, and the posterior parts of her aimed at the ceiling jiggle and bounce and completely distract him from the fact she hit him in the head and forgot she was in his bed mere moments after they'd just had sex for the very first time.

He should feel hurt or bruised in the ego area but she's naked and still laughing when she rises up, looking completely delighted and not at all contrite.

He expected quiet, he expected shy and serious, but she glories in her nakedness, in her laughter, in her ability to climb into his lap and run her fingers over his face. She reminds him, yet again, with her it's always safer to expect the unexpected.

"Are you okay?" Kate asks, her fingers dancing between them, not quite touching anywhere but his face, yet wanting to. He wants her to. Wants her. Castle catches her fingers and holds onto her hand as he shakes his head and pouts again, earning smiles and caresses, exciting fingers that brush away his grip to wrap themselves up in his palm.

"Hit me in the head," he grumps.

She laughs, swallows it down, and her hand comes up to stroke his face, "I'm sorry."

"Forgot where you were?"

She smiles, blushes in a way that makes him want to get his mouth on her, taste the heat of her skin all over again. "S'been a long day," she confesses, breath a sigh that stutters between them. "But I Kinda knew _where_ I was," she grimaces, sheepish, adorable and soft in the pale light. "Just forgot you were here too."

"That's not better." Castle shakes his head and laughs, feels her knees dig into his hips when his fingers ghost her arms, thumbs an irrevocable sweep over the warm curve of her waist. Their eyes meet on the next rise of her lashes, tilting her chin to watch him under the fall of her hair.

"S'your own fault," she hums, her hands spreading wide over the wall of his chest. "You were too far away."

Her thumb sweeps his forehead, and she takes his mouth on the next drugged exhale that grants her access. There's awe in her kiss too, in her touch, in the very bones of the woman in his arms and Castle loses himself to it as quickly as he did the first time around.

She moans and he catches it with his tongue, allows the sound to snake its way inside his chest, learns the curvature of her mouth and sweetness of her taste a million new ways with every second that passes. He drags his nails down her ribs and her lips pop apart from his, air between them fought for and shared. Her eyes, a blazing trail of mysticism, dart up and down and find no solid ground to land upon until his fingers slip between the damp strands of her hair, thumb a guiding point at her jaw, and he holds her still. He stares a lifetimes worth of promise and feels it reflected back, frantic heartbeats now slow and steady thanks to the tutelage of the other.

Kate touches his face, delicate fingertips memorizing his mouth, stroking apart his lips. She holds his eyes, that softest of gazes still trapped between them, slipping a knee between his own and rising up, beckoning him to follow. He does, he would, will and can, to the ends of the earth or the other side of the bed, anywhere with her.

"Cuddle up with me," she hums, asks, demands. Her voice becomes the barest whisper and her cheeks a dark red flame of innocence and vulnerability.

He rolls and takes her with him, pulls her back against his chest and finds home in the warm cradle of her hips, the soft swell of her buttocks. They fit together easily and she sighs, linking their fingers, pressing her mouth to the soft inner skin of his elbow.

She wriggles and he stirs against her, catching the lift of her cheeks and the way her eyelids flutter at the movement. He knows they won't stay still for long, but for now he's content and he squeezes her tighter when she murmurs, "I wanna feel your arms around me, Castle."

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><p><strong>1. first time Kate cuddles with him in bed<strong>

**2.****(S5) Castle wakes Kate up by kissing her, she freaks out and punches him in the nose because she is used to sleeping by herself.**


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